Law & Order: Hot & Sexy
by Gadrin
Summary: Sharon Stone on the Practice??!! This could spell trouble for the Law & Order writers...please RNR.


  
_This was inspired by the Law & Order episode: #135, titled "I.D." which I caught on TNT recently -- and yes, ok, I read too many Voyager fanfics by Odon, which are generally funny as hell. I didn't want it that graphic though... _

  
**PROLOGUE**

_7/16/2003 ABC confirms that Sharon Stone has been contracted for an appearance on "The Practice." This causes a stir at NBC where the writers for Law & Order assemble for an immediate pow-wow._

"Three-story-arc my ass!" groaned one of the male Law & Order writers. "What if they bring her back?"

The female consultant nodded her head, "Then they're only one Michael Douglas guest appearance away from having 20 million viewers hit their remotes and interest in our show drops to nothing."

"Exactly," said the male writer. "Who are you gonna watch every week? Sharon Stone in a sexy dress or Jerry Orbach and Sam Waterston delivering wise-cracks about last year's politcal issues?"

"And with Douglas comes the possibility of Catherine-Zeta Jones -- talk about hot!" echoed the female consultant. "Remember those courtroom scenes in Chicago? It's going to take more that Serena Southerlyn's slutty new hairdo to keep us on top."

"That's it! Yes!" the male writer grew a smile. "Make a note to talk to Angie Harmon's agent..and Carey Lowell's. I've an idea...what if Judge Nathan Marks, is still around, and he becomes the presiding judge...and at the same time there's an all-time high in jury excuses by the public...and he's of the opinion that prosecutors and defense attorneys can now..."

  
**LAW & ORDER: HOT & SEXY**

  
**MEDICAL EXAMINIERS OFFICE   
TUESDAY, 7TH, 5:19 PM**

Detective Lenny Briscoe threw up his hands as he spotted the morgue's medical examiner, Elizabeth Rodgers.

"Isn't this a jumper case doc?" 

A naked man had fallen off a balcony into a neighbor's pool the day before. Apparently he'd been despondent after his girlfriend broke up with him.

The red-haired, lady-doctor tsk-tsked him, "Looked like it, but things change. I found teeth marks and semen but no vaginal secretions on his, uh, yoo-hoo."

Briscoe blinked his eyes several times, like they were watering. "Uh, ok, then isn't that SVU's department?"

"Not really. I'd say the bite marks are fresh, but that's not what killed him," she pulled the cover off the corpse which was rolled over on his face. A pair of hand-shaped bruises, purpled near the shoulder blades.

"He either had a rough playmate or was pushed," acknowledged Briscoe.

"More like he was cross-checked, with such force that it left those bruises and caused him to fall off the balcony. The body was found floating in a jacuzzi. With the cool water the marks didn't show up until after the paramedics had bagged him."

"Great. Guess we need to talk to Sandy McCarthy."

"Kasparitis, McCarthy's gone, free-agent."

"Didn't know you followed the Rangers. All right, I'll let Van Buren know, and Ed."

"Where is your partner anyhow?"

"He left early today, date. I was just going home when you called."

Briscoe stared at the corpse, his mind envisioning the circumstances of death.

"This brings a whole new meaning to the term _header_."

**TOSSEMBACK  
JACK MCCOY'S FAVORITE BAR   
THURSDAY, 9TH, 9:40 PM**

  
"Detective Briscoe, pull up a stool."

Lenny did so and asked for a club soda, while McCoy kept him company with bourbon.

"Van Buren tells me you've got something."

"Yup, Ed and I revisited a jumper case after the morgue found some extenuating circumstances. The dead man was Rolf Linnara, a local stud, who seems to have been pushed off the balcony he was, uh, occupying."

"So."

"Well, he was naked at the time for one thing, and the ME found, uh, teeth marks and semen but no vaginal secretions south of the border."

"Damn writers! This is an SVU case."

"That's what I thought but Van Buren is keeping it. Apparently it's not kinky enough for SVU and we're allowed to show a little kink now and then."

"I see. Well, with Nathan Marks as the new Presiding Judge, I was expecting something like this. What did you find?"

"Well, his lady-friend told the original officers on scene that she was with him on the balcony, when she suddenly needed to brush her teeth. When she came back... She says no one else was around."

"Witnesses?"

"Nada."

Lenny dumped the file on the bar, opening it to the pictures the ME had taken of the hand-bruises.

"Now, I'm no expert, so I talked to the ME and she said they were made by either a real big girl or someone else was present during his fall from grace. She said the force of the trauma was so great it was more like a hockey cross-check."

"McCarthy's gone. None of the Rangers hit like this."

Briscoe's brow furrowed, "Islander fan?"

McCoy shook his head, "Devils. Stevens never killed anyone though."

Lenny made a face, "Anyway, we arrested the little lady but she's keeping quiet and lawyered up."

"Who's her attorney?"

"Just the public defender until she hires somebody."

"Looks good. I'll have Serena arraign her tomorrow on murder. Maybe we can shake her accomplice loose."

A process server showed up, nailing McCoy. It was no mean feat, they all knew his watering hole. He glanced over the document.

"That was fast. Notice of Counsel," he said, "Someone named _Dede Bustamonte_."

"Never heard of her."

"Me either."

**PART 47   
OFFICE OF JUDGE NATHAN MARKS   
FRIDAY, 10TH 11:06 AM**

"Your honor, this is totally inappropriate!" barked McCoy. He, and his former assistant Jamie Ross were conferring in Presiding Judge Nathan Marks' office. Jack had recently discovered that Jamie was _Dede_.

"Mr. McCoy, you're familiar with the new _Expanded Judicial Guidelines_, that all attorney's in a case may now use stage names, among other things." The Guidelines also allowed for "loosened" rules concerning attorney dress codes and tactics in the courtroom.

The corners of Jamie Ross' mouth turned up, as did Marks' when she slipped off her jacket. Her rayon blouse tightened around her shoulders and impressive bust, causing Jack's forehead to elevate an inch or so, imitating a peacock. Jamie had undergone silicon implants, a routine but expensive surgery; the private firm she represented had footed the bill. Even McCoy was hypnotised momentarily.

"Seeing double Jack?" purred Ross.

McCoy's faced flushed, "I don't agree with them," he countered, returning to the point of the argument, "Nor do half of my peers!"

"It seems to agree with Miss Ross," Marks mentioned, straight-faced. "Excuse me -- _Miss Bustamonte_."

Jamie winked at the judge. She'd always been a looker and knew it. Now, with the cosmetic surgery and new rules, she could flaunt it.

"What's wrong Jack?" Jamie's voice dropped down and octave, soft, sultry, captivating. She was in total control. "It just expands the playing field."

"Exppp..." Jack's voice dropped away. The vein on his forehead was expanding. "It's demeaning and totally unprofessional!"

"I assure you," she said crossing her legs. Her skirt was split on the inner left side, revealing part of a tattoo. "The doctors who performed the procedure were consumate professionals."

"Amen," concurred Marks. "Mr. McCoy, in no way do my rulings change the law. It only changes the way a case is presented to the jury. The police are allowed to use subterfuge to catch criminals, why can't an attorney use similar tactics to influence a verdict? Since my ruling the amount of excusatory requests from jury duty has dropped 25%. That means the people are willing to take active partcipation in government. And despite Miss Ross' most appealing name, they'll still be ruling on matters of traditional law, as will I." Marks gave Jamie the once over. "Besides I don't find it demeaning in the least. It seems to have accentuated a positive. There's also nothing preventing the District Attorney's Office from doing the same."

Jamie stood, walked around Marks' desk and spun gracefully like a runway model, "Exactly." She leaned over the corner of the desk until she was eye-level with McCoy. Her blouse wasn't low-cut, but Jack double-checked anyway. "Maybe you just need to spend more time in the gym Jack." She winked, and McCoy's forehead did its porcupine immitation.

"So counselors, now that that's settled, we'll start jury selection on the twelfth.

**SUPREME COURT   
TRIAL PART 47   
MONDAY 17TH 1:50 PM**

  
"Wow! Nice suit Jack," Serena Southerlyn had gotten hung up in a parole hearing and hadn't come over with McCoy.

"Yes, Armani. Cost a fortune."

"I see you're expanding the playing field." Serena sniffed. "New cologne?" Jack nodded and held Serena in place while he paced off the distance from the jury box to see how close he needed to stand.

The door to the courtroom opened and "Dede Bustamonte" and her equally shapely assistant glided in.

Serena, went through her bag, pulling out a hairdryer and spritz, before stopping to gauge her opponents. 

"Jeez, silk dress, matching gloves and open-toed shoes. Aren't those OSHA violations?" The shoes alone cost more than her own outfit. The pay the DA's office gave didn't compare to private practice. Serena stared until she realized Jack was elbowing her. 

"Start primping your hair, I want the jury to see us together."

Serena nodded and made her way past the clerk and into the court employee's hallway.

Jack made like he needed to review notes and pretended to ignore Jamie as she strode over.

"My complements on your suit Jack, and that after shave..." she inhaled and raised her eyebrows.

McCoy grunted and looked up. His hair jumped when his eyes met Jamie's smile. "A beauty mark!" His voice fell away with exasperation.

"I happened to catch a _Profiler_ re-run last night," her wink caused him bury his face in his notes. It'd been bad enough that during jury selection she kept mispronouncing _pro-bono _and had asked one man if he'd ever gotten light-headed after a _hummer_.The little things about Judge Marks Guidelines were beginning to agitate him. Jamie winked again and strode off.

After a few minutes Serena re-appeared. Her bangs were down and her hair was neatly styled.

"You look good," Jack found his voice again, before nervously flexing his neck and shoulders.

"Well, looks can be deceiving. You'll need to ask for regular recesses so I can keep it together," Serena said through her carefully practiced smile.

After a minute or two Judge Marks came out, and the gallery stood. The defendant was led in, then Marks ordered the bailiff to get the jury.

"Oh, she's good..." Serena whispered while nudging Jack. One look at the defense table and the Assistant District Attorney's hair danced again.

As the jury entered, _Dede Bustamonte_ retreived a Victoria's Secret bag from under the table and had slid it in front of her briefcase for all to see. McCoy could see evidence tags sticking out of the top.

  


  
**OFFICE OF THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY  
TUESDAY, 18TH, 8:30 AM**

  
"The Essential Wardrobe for the Prototype Criminal Attorney," said Arthur Branch, folding his newspaper back, "An interview with De-de Boost-a-mon-tay. My god, there's a half-dozen photos of her...that looks like the park."

Jack walked in, zombie-like, his shoulders were so far down he could've tied his shoes without bending over.

Serena was already present, and bright-faced despite yesterday's setbacks in court. "I saw that. She not only made the city news section with the trial, but the fashion section too. She creamed us."

Arthur clucked a couple of times, "Pretty woman." 

Jack slumped onto his boss' couch.

"And she's a good attorney," Serena chimed-in, "It was a combination of things."

"Like when she took off her jacket and the whole courtroom inhaled because she wasn't wearing a bra?" Jack's voice, obviously down below his shoulders and resting in the same region as his spirits, croaked up between the others from the building's basement.

"I'll have maintenance turn down the air conditioning," said Serena, "Just in case she tries that stunt again."

"No kidding?" Arthur chuckled, then licked his lips.

"Yes, she handed out informational flyers on her law firm and her personal history," explained Serena. "Item number six was _What get's her hot_. Later, while cross-examining a witness, she dropped her pen under the table and got down on all fours to retreive it," Serena faked a gag, "That was a bit much."

"I suppose she was wearing black panties and a garter belt?" commented Arthur.

Jack shook his head and groaned, "Worse. A tattoo inside her left thigh. I couldn't see it but I heard the bailiffs talking later, trying to figure out whether it was a butterfly or a pair of lips. I objected but Marks didn't sustain it until she'd come back up and by that time the damage was done."

Serena filed her nails, "I noticed right after, four of the six men on the jury put their notepads over their laps."

"Hmmm," said old Arthur, snapping on CourtTV with his remote. The graphic under the talking head of Catherine Crier spelled out "Tattoo Profiling" and she was interviewing Pamela Anderson and her husband. Arthur clicked it off. "I reckon by tommorrow it'll be the chief scuttlebutt around every watercooler in America. Maybe you should see if she's willing to talk."

Jack shook his head, "She knows we're on the ropes." His eyes had that far-away stare. "I don't think anyone noticed my new suit and I doubt that any of the women jurors will remember it."

"We were all pretty much invisible," conceded Serena. "I don't know, I was thinking maybe a black, Givenchy number with see-through sleeves and pearls for tomorrow?"

Jack looked at Arthur. The Assistant DA was holding his disgust, but had obviously come to grips about the reality in the courtroom. "It would make the jury notice, Arthur."

Arthur's mental calculator clicked a few times and he whistled. Jamie Ross was striking them where it hurt the most: _Jack's pride and his own budget._

  


**SUPREME COURT  
TRIAL PART 47  
WEDNESDAY, 19TH, 3:44 PM**

  
"How long had you known Rolf Linnara?" Dede Bustamonte queried her client, Cynthia Carlyle, who had just taken the oath.

"Two years."

"And your sex life?"

"It was healthy."

"How healthy?"

Cynthia Carlyle smiled, "Very healthy," she shifted awkwardly in the witness chair.

Dede mirrored the defendant's smile, "Good for you."

"Objection!" screamed McCoy.

Marks banged his gavel, "Overruled."

"How big was your boyfriend Miss Carlyle?"

The defendant held her hands several inches apart. Jamie Ross formed her lips into an "O" as whispers raced through the spectators.

"OBJECTION!!! Your honor, this is blatant misconduct!" McCoy's face was the same shade of red as Jamie Ross' CFM pumps.

"Approach," commanded Judge Marks. 

Cynthia Carlyle shifted uncomfortably in her seat again. "Excuse me your honor, This wooden chair is extremely uncomfortable. I could use a pillow."

Marks stood and grabbed his, handing it to Serena, who handed it to Miss Carlyle and accidentally knocked the judge's gavel onto the carpet behind the bench.

"Your honor," hissed McCoy, "It's obvious by Miss Ross' facial expression in response to the witness' statement, that she deliberately pursued this heinous line of questioning to unduly influence the jury. Her whole approach to this trial has been detestable and contrary to accepted judicial practice."

"Miss Bustamonte?"

"Your honor, what's obvious is that my client misunderstood my question," Dede cooly replied, before sucking on the end of her pen.

"Overruled. Return to your seats," Marks motioned them away. "Continue, Miss Bustamonte."

"Thank you Your Honor. Now Miss Carlyle, How big was your boyfriend in terms of height and weight."

Miss Carlyle placed her hand to her lips, like a bombshell from the black & white era, acknowledging a faux-pas.

"Rolfie was a big man. Six-two and two hundred and ten pounds." She shifted her position in the witness stand once more.

"And your measurements?"

"Objection!" McCoy's face almost matched the color of the bruises in the ME's pictures.

"I'm thirty-four, twenty-four, thirty-four..." Another faux-pas.

"Sustained. Jury will disregard the defendant's measurements. Your weight Miss Carlyle?"

"One hundred ten pounds, dripping wet."

McCoy's voice gurgled, but Marks waved him off. Serena tried to look non-chalant and kept her focus on the defendant. When Cynthia squirmed again, Miss Southerlyn rode her foot up Jack's leg to get his attention, but he ignored the attempt at footsie.

"Did your boyfriend ever strike you?"

"Ummm, yes and spanked me too, I'm very naughty...we made videos and pictures." Jamie Ross headed over to her Victoria Secret bag.

"Objection!!!" McCoy rocketed up, but Serena caught him. She slipped her arm around his waist, leaned in close and whispered softly into his ear for a good twenty seconds.

For once, the jury ignored the sexy defendant and her foxy attorney, and focused on the People's ongoing tete-a-tete. Everyone in the courtroom did. Even Judge Marks and Jamie Ross stared.

"I'm sorry Mr. McCoy, your objection..." began Judge Marks. Strangely, the Assistant DA waved the judge off. Fuming, Marks searched for his gavel.

McCoy slipped his arm around Serena and whispered back, before the pair locked eyes. The color returned to Jack's face. Serena traced the ridge of his nose with her fingernail and winked.

Marks slammed his palm onto the benchtop to restore order. The slap of his hand caused Cynthia Carlyle to jump. She looked flush.

"The People withdraw their objection, your honor," McCoy said after finally releasing Serena from their public grope. He seemed a man transformed, and even loosened his tie.

Serena got up quietly, retrieved her cell-phone and made to leave the courtroom, dragging her finger across McCoy's shoulders as she passed behind him, causing the gallery to buzz.

Jamie Ross sidled up and whispered, "Do you two need to get a room?"

"Why Dede," Jack whispered back, addressing her by her stagename for the first time since the trial began. "I'm just utilizing the expanded playing field." He flashed her a smug smile and sat back.

  


**OFFICE OF THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY  
WEDNESDAY, 19TH, 7:25 PM**

  
"I understand you caused a slight commotion in Judge Marks' court today," Arthur licked his teeth through his lips. "Are you two going steady?"

Jack was on the couch, his shoulders up, smile on his face, his old confidence back.

"Something like that Arthur."

Serena Southerlyn strolled into the District Attorney's office, playing with her hair like a twenty-dollar hooker.

"Briscoe just called, "The warrant that Judge Alonzo granted hit paydirt. They tailed Cynthia Carlyle tonight and she led them to her boyfriend with the big hands. His apartment had several videos and photos of her being spanked, including some interesting bruises south of her own border. The boyfriend's talking."

"Spanked?" Arthur's brow furrowed.

Jack nodded, "Something Serena picked up on during the trial."

Serena retrieved a transcript of today's cross, for Arthur to read. She pointed out where Jamie Ross' examination started, then came back and sat on Jack's lap.

"The transcript doesn't show it," laughed Serena, "But Cynthia couldn't sit still. I figured she'd been naughty and had gone to see her new boyfriend-slash-accomplice recently."

"Well, well, well," said Arthur adding a few harrumphs when he spotted his attorneys carrying on. "It seems for all her showmanship Miss Bustamonte and her client revealed a little too much."

"We'll phone Jamie tonight and set up a meeting. Once she learns about the new evidence I'm sure she'll want to talk. Our theory is that Cynthia lured the defendant out onto the balcony naked, under the pretense of giving him a _hummer_, while her large-handed accomplice slipped in behind and pushed him off. I think a jury will swallow that." 

Serena giggled, "Nice precise theory. Jack's his old self again," before running her finger down his nose.

Arthur pulled out his good scotch, three glasses and poured drinks.

"To Judge Marks," he proposed, "For proving that Lady Justice might be blind but still has a nice rack."

"Bottoms up!" laughed Serena.

McCoy added, "And don't forget Dede Bustamonte, whose client struck a _blow_ for justice...or something like that."

  
**THE END**


End file.
